Her laugh was a bright melody that tangled itself in his chest, making it impossible to breathe, to think, to do anything but adore her. The way she tilted her head, just so, as if she were daring him to keep up with her wit, made his world spin. Maddie glanced at him, her wide eyes sparkling with a mischief that sent his heart tumbling. She owned him, utterly and completely, and every time she said his name, it wasn’t madness he felt; it was Maddie. She was his every rational thought undone, his every certainty rewritten just to include her.
She laughed, and the sound carved through him—it almost hurt. How had he lived before this? Before her? Before her voice, before her eyes, before this kind of joy? Unfettered, simple, and impossibly real?
Sebastian had lived a life of measured steps and controlled edges. Of knowing what he should do, who he should be, how not to wanttoo much.
And then she arrived with her honey-sweet voice and skeptical frowns and the kind of laughter that broke rules just by existing.
This… this… was not what he had expected when he started to fall for her. He hadn’t prepared for a world in which sledding through snow could feel more intimate than the waltz. But she had given him something far rarer than this.
She had given him belonging.
There was no mask here. No title, no expectation, no legacy chasing his heels. Just two people tumbling toward something remarkable.
He hadn’t asked her to come with him as part of some grand scheme. He’d acted on impulse, on the gut-level panic that Paisley might charm her out from under him. But now, watching her, flushed and grinning and beautiful beyond belief, he realized he didn’t want to win her. He wanted to deserve her.
She made him want to be the kind of man who could make a life with her. Someone who could give her more than reckless rides and almost-kisses. Someone who could hand her his heart and mean it.
And he would.
Maddie twisted to face him, still breathless. “I can’t decide if that was exhilarating or utterly reckless.”
Her radiant smile, however, left no room for doubt about her true sentiments.
Sebastian gave her a rakish grin, brushing flecks of snow from his coat. “Why not both?”
And then, without asking, he stood, extending a hand toward her. “Again?”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked cheekily.
He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “No, not really.”
Maddie laughed, taking his hand. “Then lead on, my lord.”
And lead he did, back toward the hill, back toward the snow, back toward everything he already knew he never wanted to live without.
Chapter Nineteen
The roar camesuddenly, a thunderous crack that echoed across the white-capped hills, making the earth seem to tremble beneath them. Sebastian’s head snapped up at once, his gaze falling on the ridge above the valley. Snow peeled away like a shattering pane of glass, spilling over itself in an elegant, devastating rush. Maddie, who had been mid-laugh, froze in place beside him.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The avalanche tumbled downward, its movement hypnotic as it carved a powerful path through the trees and blanketed the lower slopes with pristine white once more. The air crackled with sound, a distant echo of thunder and cascading force.
“Does this…” Maddie’s voice was unsure, almost tentative as she tore her gaze from the sight to glance at him. “Does this happen often?”
Sebastian’s lips tilted into a faint, reassuring smile as he folded his arms, watching the valley stilling after the chaos. “It’s rare enough, though predictable under the right conditions.”
“Predictable?” she echoed, her brows lifting.
“Physics,” he explained, the satisfaction of her curiosity bringing out a smug glint in his eye. “Snow accumulates, of course, and it settles in layers, some denser than others. A sound or a shift in weight disturbs the delicate equilibrium.” His tone softened, and he gesturedtoward the ridge. “The force it released just now was inevitable.”
Beautiful, but inevitable.
Maddie turned her head slowly back to the scene. “You make terrifying things sound rather poetic.”
“Perhaps terrifying things have their own kind of poetry,” Sebastian said lightly, though her words lingered with an unexpected weight in his chest.
Just as the last echoes of the avalanche faded into the brisk air, a loud snort and a startled shuffle reminded him of something infinitely less poetic. “Swan,” he said sharply, just as the mare reared back, her ears flat against her skull. The thunder, the chaos, and the quaking ground were too much for her. Swan’s hooves scraped against the frozen earth before she bolted, dashing back toward the hills at a breakneck pace.
“Sebastian!” Maddie cried, clutching his arm. “The horse!”
